


Guarding Hearth and Home

by Lust_Demon



Category: Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-07-08 21:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust_Demon/pseuds/Lust_Demon
Summary: Barb finds out a lot sooner that her son is the Trollhunter and they both have to learn how to deal with juggling their lives along with the difficulties and threats that come at them both.  But at least they have one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hugely canon divergent. This is taking what happened in episode 12 and pretty much going "NOPE". It always bothered me that when Barb found out about the trolls she made her son promise to not keep it from her and then he promptly became secretive again. So my answer to that is to let her find out a lot sooner and avoid some of the drama. All the while creating more of it.
> 
> # I Lust_demon have not given my permission for my work to be posted on any third-party website or app such as Fanfic Pocket Archive. Keep MY work off YOUR app. #

Barbara couldn't stop smiling as she watched her son giving his final bows beside Claire. The play had started late and she was glad because it meant that she didn't miss anything when she slid into her seat to see it. She had to admit, the kids were fairly good. A little over enthusiastic in their pronunciation, but she was fairly certain that the bard would have loved it. A Midsummer Night's Dream might have been more on key with these kids, but it would have made it harder for the theater teacher to reign them in. Waiting for some of the crowds to part and other parents to move to their own children, Barbara waved to Jim and saw that he was shyly waving back. It was hard not to rush over to him but she managed to keep her steps slow as she went over and pulled him into a tight hug. 

“Oh! My baby boy. You look so handsome. And your costume is incredible. Have you got a renaissance lover in the theater group?” she lifted his gauntleted hand up so she could turn it over and inspect the way the metal connected. “Someone really went all out!”

“Ha.. yeah, well, we wanted to make it look good.” Jim's lip twitched and she paused a moment at the faint tell that she had seen in her ex now showing in Jim. 

“And Claire! Your acting is just amazing, you did so well. Do you think you'll keep it up for next year?” Barbara looked at the young girl standing so close to her little Romeo. 

“Maybe? My schedule has been kinda hectic, but I'd really like to.” Claire looked up at her with bright eyes. 

“Mom, can I talk to you? About earlier?” Jim started hesitantly. 

Barbara took a breath and reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder, guiding him away from Claire with a soft smile. The young girl was giving him a wave and the sympathetic look all teenagers did when one was potentially going to get in trouble. She was a bit surprised when he waved down his friend Toby to join them, but then again, they were getting into trouble together so maybe they were going to come clean on something. 

“Mom, what I wanna tell you isn't really easy.” Jim started as they moved outside, holding onto her hand. 

He was trying to be brave and it broke her heart to see him looking so lost. 

“Mom.. I'm… I'm a trollhunter.”

“A what… a troll… oh my god, you're in a gang?!” She lowered her voice even as she pulled him in close to her. Squeezing him tightly, she saw that Toby was looking nervous too and reached out to tug him in as well. “That's why all this strange behavior? Why you broke into the museum? Was that a hazing ritual?”

“Wha-- no mom it's not--”

“Look, it's okay, we don't have to involve the cops.” Barbara said in a fierce whisper. “We'll work this out. I can call in some favors and it's all going to be okay.”

Toby looked shocked and she couldn't blame him, her arms curled tight around them both, her heart feeling like it was ripping apart but so beyond grateful that Jim was finally coming clean about all the things he had been getting into. 

“Dr. Lake you're squeezing too hard.” Toby squeaked out, finally making her let go. 

She didn't let either of them get too far from her, however. Her hands stayed on their cheeks, stroking them gently and willing them to keep talking. 

“Sweetie, how did you even get involved in a gang?”

“It's not a gang, not.. really. It's hard to explain, but I can show you. I just really need you to keep an open mind and let me explain… without interrupting.”

So he had put a lot of thought into this, and was likely prepared for any argument she made about him leaving his gang life behind. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and took out her cell phone. She could see Jim tense and smiled at him. 

“Don't worry, I'm just adjusting my voice mail. This way if work calls it'll redirect them to another doctor. Family emergencies come first.”

Her fingers flew across the screen and she tucked it away just as quickly, reaching out to Jim and pulling him into her side. Just like when he was a little boy, he curled his arms around her waist and pressed his face against her chest. He might have gotten taller, but her baby boy always looked to her to make things right. Or at least he used to. She wanted to fix everything for him, and it didn't matter how deep he'd gotten himself into trouble, she would help him out of this mess. 

"I'm just so glad that you're finally talking to me about this. I know I haven't made it easy with work and all--"

"No mom, don't blame yourself. Don't ever blame yourself." Jim looked up at her and his hug got tighter, like he was willing everything to stay together and sane. "First, I need to show you something in the canal."

"Jimbo…" Tobias looked nervous but he let Jim push him out the door in front of him. 

A part of her wanted to scream that the two of them had managed to get into so much trouble. So much more than was normal for teenage boys.  They were hoarding secrets and the way they acted you would swear that it was all life or death matters. And with the amount of times Jim had come home with small bruises and trying to hide cuts she suspected it wasn't just them blowing things out of proportion. If it was just the two of them sneaking around and getting into trouble she would have been concerned but she could have assured herself that it was a phase he was going through and would get over. But gangs were insidious and the boys were so impressionable. She kept an arm around each of them and hugged them both close to her side as they walked. She needed to see this through to the end. 

"Barbara, Young Atlas, Tobias. I do hope you aren't leaving so soon." She heard a voice behind them and felt a tension in both boys. 

Odd, she half expected that from Jim because of how close she and Walt were getting, but she hadn't expected Tobias to get rattled. Turning towards the history teacher, she smiled softly. She could feel the beginnings of butterflies in her stomach at the sight of his smile. His cologne wasn’t the heavy, intrusive stuff that other men tended to wear. His was a subtle musky scent that made her wish she had the time to lean in close and press her face into the nape of his neck. Her imagination begged her to take a bite even as she took another step with Jim.

“I’m sorry Walt, we’ve actually got some family things we need to do.” She waved a hand and looked down to Toby. “Come on boys.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Strickler.” 

She really needed to talk to Jim about his tone with teachers, but for right now she wanted to focus on what it was that he was telling her about this Trollhunter gang. Her little boy was holding her hand tight and she let her gaze flick from Jim to Toby. While Toby was shrinking back a bit, Jim was just a step away from having his hackles up and hissing at their teacher. It was hard for her to understand considering he used to look up to the history teacher so much, and she could only guess that this gang had slowly instilled a hate for authority figures in him. Maybe that’s another reason why he’d been hiding all of this from her as well.

Squeezing his fingers lightly, she drew Jim’s attention back to her and felt him relaxing when he looked up at her. Despite everything that had been going on, at least she could still see the love in his eyes as plain as day. It was the same expression that she remembered seeing on his face when his father had left. The look of trust and hope that she would be able to make everything better. She was his mother and she needed to fix whatever trouble he had gotten into. And then once he was out of that trouble they were going to have a long talk about staying out of trouble and all the worry he’d been putting her through.

“So this all started a few months ago.” Jim was talking quietly, walking closer to her as he led her down the sidewalk towards the canal. “And I never meant for it to happen, it just sort of… stumbled on me.”

Nodding slowly, she shifted her hand a bit and twined their fingers together, giving him a little squeeze to let him know that he could just keep talking and she would listen. Toby was uncharacteristically quiet and she absently rubbed along his shoulders, feeling him step in closer to her. 

“I was heading to school, and we were late, so we decided to cut through the canal so we’d be able to make it in time.” His voice sounded strained and there was nervousness there that made his words quiver. “And that’s when I heard something call me. At first, I thought maybe someone was in trouble, or maybe that it was a prank of some sort because I couldn’t see where it was coming from. The only thing that was there was this pile of rubble. So I went over to it. I figured that maybe I’d find a baby monitor in it or something, you know? Something really simple to explain what was going on.” 

She could hear his words coming a bit faster, the excitement build in his voice, and she couldn’t help but smile just a little even as the worry laid itself on her heart like layers of thick oil. Whatever sort of trouble it was he had gotten into, he actually enjoyed it. Or enjoyed some aspect of it. One of his hands waved as he spoke and when he looked up at her it wasn’t with the same pleading expression as before. Now there was an honest yearning, a light that she had seen whenever he looked at Claire. 

“So what was it that you found in the rubble? A radio?” she ventured quietly.

“This… is gonna sound totally out there.” he looked half sheepish as his hand raised up to his chest, lightly tapping the chestplate that he was still wearing. “But what I found is what became this.”

“LARPing gear…?”

“How do you know what LARPing is?” Toby’s eyes widened and she could see Jim shaking his head in frustration.

“This isn’t just plastic, it’s real metal.” He raised her hand up and had her touch the pauldrons and the chain mail. “Mom, this is really real and I need you to not freak out, because believe me, I freaked out when I first found this.”

“So did I.” Toby piped up, not to be left out.

“I will do my best not to freak out.” She promised him hesitantly. “But if you keep me in suspense like this it’s just going to make it worse I think. Maybe you should just rip the band aid off, so to speak?”

“Okay… okay, just down here…” Jim started ahead of her and jogged down into the canal that they were coming up to.

Toby gestured for her to go first and she took a deep breath, adjusting her weight so she would ease her way down the slope of the canal rather than accidentally going face forward down into it. Jim was jogging towards the bridge and as she got closer she could see that there was a dent in the concrete.

“Uh… Tobes?”

“We can talk about that later, lets get inside.” Toby made his way to Jim and started looking from him to the wall.

Probably the strangest thing about the bridge was that she never saw any graffiti done here. Usually you would get teens tagging it or hanging out underneath it and leaving candy wrappers but it was all pristine. Except for that dent that was alarmingly large. Looking over to Jim, she started to ask what he’d led her here for when she saw him taking something from Toby’s school bag. It looked like a crystal of some sort but it was glowing so she assumed it was a fancy flashlight or a toy until she got closer. 

“Man are you sure about this, because we can still turn around and walk back out.” Toby moved from foot to foot like he honestly wanted to dash away.

“I’m sure. Mom. I am a Trollhunter… and down here, are some of the people that I protect.” 

With that said he struck the blunt end of the tool against the wall, lighting up the semi circle that he’d apparently drawn onto it while she was paying attention to Toby. From the spot he struck, cracks started to form, glowing brightly and crumbling down at a rapid pace, but nothing around them moved to fall or even sounded like it was going to come crashing down on them. Stepping closer to the boys, she felt each of them taking her hands and leading her through the newly formed hole. At first she could only see the brightness, but once she stepped through what should have been the support wall of the bridge and onto a set of massive stairs that were carved into the stones. 

Both of the boys were squeezing her hands tightly and she had to remind herself to breath. The smell wasn’t rotten, it was just different. She could swear that she smelled wet earth and something like concrete before it had a chance to harden. It sounded just like a normal town, the murmuring din of people going about their daily lives wasn’t unlike what she was used to at the hospital. But that wasn’t what had her frozen in shock. It was the sight of a whole other town, apparently just under Arcadia, beautiful in it’s own right. Lit by various types of lamps and glowing rocks, she let the boys lead her down the stairs carefully, trying to take it all in. 

“What is that… on the far side?” She whispered to Jim.

“Master Jim!” A voice called out and she blinked as Toby moved in front of her like he could act like a shield. “I’m so glad to see you so s-- AAAAAAHHH.” 

“Blinky, don’t freak out.” 

“JIM! You’ve brought another human here.” The blue creature had two sets of arms and he was waving them frantically, hurriedly trying to push all three of them back up the steps, presumably before someone saw them. “How could you invite… your… mother?”

“Hey, he’s freaking out more than I am.” Her voice waved more than a little as she did her best to stay calm, looking all around at the city and the inhabitants that apparently hadn’t noticed them just yet.

“Jim home!” A lumbering grey creature with a green mane moved over and stopped short at the sight of her. He seemed curiously confused and waved a massive hand hello.

“Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, I can’t keep lying to my mom and if I just told her without a lot of proof she would think I’m crazy. So I brought her here and I’m really sorry, but it’s my mom and she’s a really good person and she’d never hurt anyone here.” Jim started to explain rapid fire, starting off sounding nervous and slowly gaining confidence. 

"Jim, you know how Trollmarket feels about strange humans." Blinky tensed his lower set of fists while his upper hands were holding his cheeks. 

"Trolls…" Barbara muttered as she looked around, taking a step back and letting her back rest against the wall, sinking down so she could catch her breath. "Wait… Jim, you said you were a Troll Hunter?"

"The term loses some of its connotations when it's translated." Blinky waved a hand theatrically. "Jim, you need to get your mother out of here before someone sees her."

"Wait, before we go out, where the heck is Bular's body? It wasn't at the bottom of the canal." Jim looked from the smaller troll to the larger one. 

Both trolls and Toby looked uncomfortable and Barbara rubbed her hands across her face. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Blinky fidgeting. He was so large and he looked like he’d be able to break trees in half but he was so nervous and inching towards the even bigger troll at his side. 

“We didn’t want to freak you out, we thought we’d have a little more time to tell you.” Toby’s voice was soft and he was absently rubbing his arm. “When we got off the bridge and looked in the canal, there was no sign of him. There was a little bit of rubble but not nearly enough to make up his whole body.”

“Damnit.” 

“Who is this Bular? Why are they important?” Barbara took a breath and reached out to Jim, touching his hand and guiding him to sit beside her.

“Bular is one of the biggest threats to Trollmarket and to humans.” Jim flexed his fingers and she watched the glint of metal as he made a fist. “I’ve been fighting with him on and off ever since I became the Trollhunter.”

“So… if Bular was gone, you wouldn’t have to be a Trollhunter?” Barbara asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately it’s not that simple.” Blinky clasped both sets of hands and then looked behind him, shuffling to the side to presumably help hide them from sight for a little longer. “There isn’t just Bular, there are changelings and other creatures that would seek to harm troll and humankind.”

“Then what does this mean? Is Jim going to have to track this Bular down and put him in some sort of troll jail.” 

“No jail, kill.” Aaarrrgghh looked so innocent when he spoke and she saw both Toby and Jim flinch before looking at her.

“Jim… how long…?” She turned slightly to look at him properly.

His shoulders were pulled in and his hands were clenched tightly. If he had been fighting something the size of these trolls it was no wonder he was coming home with bruises. It was a miracle that he wasn’t coming home with broken bones. Or worse, not coming home at all. Reaching out, she pulled him into her arms and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Almost as soon as her lips touched his hair she felt the heavy weight of his armor float away and gasped at the puff of light and smoke around them both. His arms went tight around her and she did her best not to hyperventilate. Panicking wouldn’t do either of them any good right now. 

“No more secrets.” She grit her teeth and finally pulled back, looking down at him. “I don’t care how much you think it will freak me out, you don’t keep any more secrets from me.”

“Mom, I’m sorry--”

“No. No, I don’t want to hear an apology right now. I’m doing my best to stay calm and you need to just give me this one promise, okay?” She breathed deep and cupped his cheek. “You’re my little boy. You might think you’re all grown up, and you might be off fighting monsters, but you are -still- my little boy. You always will be.” 

“I promise. No more secrets.” 

He was still trying to let his gaze slide away and she’d let it go for the moment. If she tried to argue with him and demand that he let her in on everything then she’d just end up with a runaway teen. Although she suspected that he’d only be running as far as this bridge. Still, without that crystal thing he carried she wouldn’t be able to go in after him. So she had to be patient, and she had to be understanding. And she needed so many answers.

“Alright… so first things first. How about some introductions for your friends? Who is that guy?” 

Pointing just behind the bigger troll, she saw each of them turn to see where she was gesturing to and Blinky shrank back. There was a white troll with huge horns and eyes that were the milky color of opals. At first she thought maybe it was just his coloration all over, but the way that he squinted and sniffed made her think that he was most likely at least partially blind.

“You brought another human to Trollmarket?!” 

There was probably going to be a lot of this before the night was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skeletons in the closet, or rather, monsters in the basement. Life was much easier when the only stress she had was the hospital.

The conversations, and some yelling, had gone long into the night and Barb felt like her head was going to split from all the new information and trouble it was bringing up in her overactive imagination. There was a lot of celebrating at least, because a big magical bridge had been dismantled, and it had been interesting to see the eating habits of the trolls. It was honestly a lot to take in and she thought she handled it relatively well. There had been a few yelps when she got surprised by some trolls, but she hadn’t ran away with one boy under each arm so she called it a win.

Now she was taking a day off from work, nursing a cup of tea as she tries to take in the things Jim had told her the night before. There were trolls, goblins and other monsters hiding in the dark. And in the light too. Walt and Ms. Nomura were changelings, according to the boys. They'd witnessed the changes themselves. That would explain the way that Jim's attitude had been changing around Walt. She felt her heart sink and rubbed her thumb across the rim of her cup of tea. 

Hearing a thumping coming up from the basement, she got up slowly and pulled the curtains shut to block out the sunlight for her unexpected house guest. She had been a little annoyed to hear that a troll had been living with them for the past while and that he'd tunneled a way from their basement to Trollmarket. But she had been too relieved to voice that annoyance. While she had been at work these past months, she and Jim had the extra protection of this strange troll she had yet to meet. Jim had given her a run down on the basics and promised that this Draal would come and talk to her once he was ready. 

When he turned the corner from the basement steps, he looked at her like he was sizing her up. Nodding go him, she held her breath and headed towards the kitchen. He would decide if he really wanted to talk to her now or take more time. The heavy footsteps followed her and she closed another set of curtains, hearing him hum in approval at her actions. 

"I was thinking of making breakfast, are you hungry?" She asked, gesturing to the box of pancake mix on the counter. 

"Human food isn't as appealing to trolls." He replied hesitantly. 

"Well, that's okay. The stuff I cook isn't really suitable for human consumption." She let out a short laugh, starting to measure out the ingredients. 

Looking over her shoulder at him, she could see that he was still hesitant, but he was coming a bit closer and trying to get a good look at what she was doing. She didn’t always pay the closest attention to what she was doing in the kitchen, and this time wasn’t very different. In the hospital she had to be alert to everything around her but here she could relax and it showed when she reached for the salt and poured some into the mix. When she realized what she’d done, she winced slightly and reached for the sugar, thinking to simply balance it out, her free hand still stirring up the mixture so there wouldn’t be clumps.

“Jim has been explaining a lot of things to me, but I was hoping that you could help to fill in some gaps.” Barbara spoke quietly, looking to Draal from the corner of her eye. “As long as it’s not too difficult for you.”

“I’m not some weak whelp clinging to the teat.” The broad shouldered troll growled, his deep brow furrowing.

“Then you don’t mind telling me about your father?” 

That had him freezing up and she paused in her mixing so she could look at him head on. His fist thumped against the floor in a movement she was sure was just reflexive rather than actual hostility. Still, she didn’t feel like she could safely turn her back to him until things were resolved. 

“Jim said that your father was the Trollhunter before him. And I know that Jim promised me that he wouldn’t keep secrets, but he might still leave out details about his duties. If I don’t know everything, then I can’t help him.” 

Draal pulled back and moved out of the way as she turned on the griddle, putting butter on it and watching the little patty melt. “Trollhunters fight alone. It is a solemn duty that they must endure alone.” 

The mixing bowl thumped against the counter and she fixed her gaze on Draal. Her jaw clenched and she had to take a few breaths to keep herself from yelling in frustration. No wonder Jim got along with this one well enough, they thought the same way. “How many Trollhunters in the past have been children?”

The question gave him pause and she saw him shake his head minutely as he considered the question. It only made her angrier at whatever bit of destiny had pushed the amulet to choose her son. Vendel had explained as well as he could that the amulet was the one that chose who would bear it’s mantle, but he couldn’t explain why it had chosen her son of all people. It should have been an adult, someone who could mentally handle the pressures of such an enormous job. She had suspicions about the amulet, but there was no way she could tell if anything she thought was true since she didn’t know magic. And trying to debate the matter with one of the few trolls she now knew would just lead to a heated argument about how this was something noble and no one should turn away from it.

“I can understand, at least a little, why the amulet might have chosen a human. Vendel and Blinky both insist that the amulet is some sort of divine thing for your people. But I just can’t fathom it being absolutely perfect because it chose a -child-. Jim isn’t even old enough to drink yet, and he’s been enlisted in some…. Cross reality war between your people and the Gumm Gumm’s. And the amulet won’t chose someone else unless Jim--” Her words caught in her throat and she turned to stare at the griddle, her hands shaking faintly. Gripping the mixing bowl, she poured some of it out and listened to the sharp hiss, watching the pancakes slowly form into semi perfect circles. “I need to keep him safe.” 

There was the soft thump of his fist against the floor again and she turned her face further away from him, brushing a hand just under her eyes to make sure there was no sign of tears there. 

"Blinkous Galadrigal isn't perfect, but he's doing a good job training him. And I'm also helping the Trollhunter--"

"Jim. His name is Jim. He's more than just a title. He's not just some hero, he's also a boy, and he's just as fallible as you or me." Barbara's brow furrowed as she looked at Draal. 

"It's not appropriate to call him by his name, because he  **is** the Trollhunter. The fact that Merlin's amulet chose him means he is more than a child now. He has a duty to protect the order of things." Draal shook his head. 

"Don't you talk to me about duty. The only duty he should be concerned with is getting through high school! We can't change the fact that it chose him--"

"Then why are you trying to impose your will on things?" 

"Do NOT interrupt me when I'm talking." Barbara flipped over the pancakes furiously, small splatters of the mix flying into the counter. "I'm 'imposing my will' because I'm trying to make sure my son doesn't get killed. And for that matter, why is it a bad thing that I would want to help? No man is an island, and he shouldn't be forced to fight alone. Every advantage should be taken, especially if you consider this Gunmar to be such a massive threat."

"That's… not how it's done." Draal looked like he wanted to hide back in the basement for a moment and then caught himself and pressed forward again. "The Trollhunter has great magic in the amulet to aid him."

"Really?" 

Draal nodded slowly, eyeing the spatula in her hand like she was about to clock him with it. He knew that he could catch it in time. Humans were a slow and inferior species after all. 

"Well that's wonderful then. Who's teaching him the magic?" She smiled sweetly and Draal felt his gut drop as the trap closed on him. 

"Well, what I mean is that the magic inside the amulet is what's aiding him." 

"I see. So what we have is one small boy. A child, I will remind one more time, who has been forced into a suit of armor with just a sword to defend himself. Some defense lessons from yourself and Mr. Blinky, and that's it?" 

She was still smiling at him and his eyes dropped to the spatula again, wincing when he saw that her pale skin was turning whiter from gripping the tool. But she looked so cheerful. 

"He takes very well to the lessons." He said quickly. 

"Right. The lessons that teach him to fight creatures that are at the minimum two or possibly three feet taller than him and outweigh him by… oh let's estimate… two hundred or three hundred pounds."

"He did just fine when he fought me in the Hero's Forge. He stood his own even before he got his hands on his amulet." Draal watched as she shoveled the pancakes onto a plate. “He did so well that he had the option to kill me and he didn’t, which, I’m thankful for, but it’s really against tradition--”

His words froze up when Barbara turned to stare at him and he pulled back a step, the plate of pancakes in hand. Her expression was blank but he could feel the chill of her gaze sinking into him like ice, weighing him down and keeping him from rushing out of the room in a hurry.

“I’m… going to pretend you didn’t just imply what I think you did.” Barbara held a hand up. “Now, what can you tell me about changelings?”

There was a tension along his shoulders and he sighed heavily, picking up one of the pancakes and chewing on it thoughtfully. It actually wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He would have preferred it to be a bit lumpy, but the flavor was good.

“Changelings were troll whelps once, a long long time ago.” He spoke quietly and gestured for her to pull up a chair. “You know about Bular, and his Sire Gunmar. The two of them work in tandem for a greater evil known as the Pale Lady. Morgana.”

“Morgana Le Fey?” 

His head snapped up in surprise and he nodded silently, watching as she packed up the pancake mix again and cleaned the area where she had been working. Apparently making the pancakes had just been stress cooking because she wasn’t having anything to eat herself. Not that he was complaining. More for him.

“You would have to ask Blinkous what tales of Morgana are true or not, but the one I do know to be true is the one of changeling children. Ages ago, whelps were stolen from us. Countless children taken from their stone cradles and given to Morgana. She cast an evil magic on them that changed them forever. With her magic instilled in them, they were able to walk in daylight. Under the guise of humans. In order to do this, however… more babes were needed. Human ones this time.” Draal explained, licking the plate clean and then dropping it in his mouth after finishing his last pancake.

“But what about the changelings themselves?” Barb put her hands on the table, her shoulders sagging as she listened to the stories unraveling from Draal. “Are there any that… have come to Trollmarket? To work with you?”

“The Impure would not be welcome in Trollmarket.”

“But it’s not their fault that they’re… ‘impure’.” Barbara frowned, feeling her heart drop.

“No. But they cannot be trusted. Least of all because the babes that act as their familiars are held in the Darklands with Gunmar. They serve Gunmar from fear that he would eat their human familiars. They serve the Pale Lady because she created them and they would see her returned to ‘glory’.” Draal growled and rested an arm on his knee.

“Surely not all of them..?” Her voice was quiet and Draal looked up to her, seeing the fierce expression had been washed away in her worry. “Making a generalization like that, you can’t just figure that all of them are evil. There must be some that would want to work with Trollmarket. To be accepted instead of just… used?”

“Using is all they know.” Draal grumbled softly and got up from his spot on the ground. Moving over to Barbara, he reached out and lightly tapped her under the chin, making her look up to him. “Bar-bu-rah, if an Impure has it’s claws in your heart, I suggest you forget them. The sooner you do, the better you’ll be for it. A changeling does not love. They do not do things with kindness in mind. They will always have ulterior motives.”

Her heart felt like it was slowing down and her gut twisted at his words. Her shoulders pinched inwards as she looked down again and she could hear him taking steps away from her. She could hear him making an excuse to go back to Trollmarket and shook her head a little bit when he asked if she wanted him to bring her anything. When she pulled in a breath she felt her stomach clench and she bowed her head, willing her heart to stay down even though it seemed like it was trying to vomit up her throat and drop onto the floor in front of her. 

Walter had never done anything to make her feel used. He sat with her and talked about Jim’s grades and how his attention wandered like any good teacher would. He had brought a light wine to dinner and recommended dishes that she would be able to handle when she had confessed that she wasn’t as great a cook as Jim was. He had made time to stop by the hospital to talk to her, just to her, with no mention of Jim at all. He had always acted like a perfect gentleman and been interested in what she had to say, made her feel important. He had been concerned the night of the play.

She bit down on her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut, slipping her glasses off as she covered her face and took a deeper breath. Draal didn’t know everything. He referred to changelings as Impures and he was surely holding up an old standard of Trollmarket in not wanting to associate with anyone that wasn’t troll. Almost all of Trollmarket was xenophobic and Jim admited that some of them still had problems with the fact that he was supposed to be the one that protected them. Draal had to be wrong, she wouldn’t let what he said sink into her. Walter was a good man. He was kind and thoughtful and there was no reason for him to get close to her, especially if Jim already knew who he was. He had to be doing it because he wanted to be close to her and damn the consequences. That made sense at least. In a world where the Gumm Gumm’s viewed changelings as tools and Trollmarket saw them as ‘Impure’, he must have been reaching for any sort of warmth he could. 

Sliding her glasses on, she took a breath and hurried to find her phone. It wasn’t a school day, so unless he was grading tests she should be able to get in contact with him. Surely he’d appreciate her phoning him first and taking the initiative. She could practically hear his voice now, sweet and soothing and charming. She could ask him out to coffee, that way there was no chance of Draal coming back and finding them in the kitchen together. Her fingers trembled faintly as she dialed his number from memory, leaning against the wall as she waited for his cool tones to wash over her like a balm for all her miseries.

“You’ve reached Walt Strickler, I can’t take your call right now--”

It didn’t mean anything that he wasn’t picking up. He didn’t know that she knew about him being a changeling. It was just a coincidence and he was busy with last minute things for the semester. Maybe he was getting some items changed on the syllabus to use in the next part of the year.

“Hi, Mr. Strickler.. Walt..? I’m sorry I had to blow you off the other night, but you know how it goes with family sometimes. I was hoping I could make it up to you? Maybe we could get coffee sometime. Or tea, I guess tea is more your thing right?” Was she babbling because she wanted to see him again or because she knew his secret? Would it come off as air headed to him? Hanging up, she put the phone on the table beside her and moved back to the kitchen. Maybe she could drown out her thoughts with chocolate milk.


	3. The black prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bular has survived and he fully intends on continuing to live to see another sun set.

When he hit the ground, the wind was knocked out of him and he grit his fangs, glaring up at the bridge that he'd just fallen from through the subtle waves of water. The arches and cross beams seemed to smile down at him, reminding him that it was a human child that had just caused his downfall. He could feel the life's ichor oozing from his gut and clamped a hand over it, grunting softly as he rolled into his side and pushed himself to his feet. The sun's rays were inching closer to him and he didn't have to look to know that it was just a few inches from his back. Moments from rolling across his body and freezing it so he would never be able to move again. Worse than the creeping venom that changelings sometimes carried on them. Rolling to his feet, he closed his eyes against the pain and shoved his swords back into place on his back. One fist dropped to the ground and he propelled himself forward, somewhat grateful that the water helped to take the weight off the wound and keep it from gushing his ichor out into the stream of the canal. 

Words couldn't describe how he hated this. He had been bested in combat and now he was running from the final strike. Training had the words clamoring around his head, demanding that he listen and stop running. 

_ Always finish the fight.  _

He had always followed that rule. Almost always. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had run from a fight, and each time he had been punished for it. But if he turned now and attempted to go back to the fight with the Trollhunter, he'd end up dead. Either Daylight or sunlight would slice through the last threads of his life and destroy him. Growling, he reached the grated section where the sewers flushed water into the canal. Yanking the iron gate open, he dove inside and then pulled hard at the gate until the edges of it were further inside where the opening was smaller and made sure it stuck there. He could see the yellowing sections of light creeping along the canal but for now he was safe from the sun. 

He would not die like Kanjigar, with the life stolen from him by sunlight. He would not be like some of the unlucky Gumm Gumms that used to live on the surface with him hundreds of years ago. Good trolls that Decimar never touched, just a bit too slow and turned to statues, and then to sand. He would live to fight another day, as long as his father never found out that he had run from the Trollhunter.

Shame washed over him and he squeezed his eyes shut, bringing an ichor covered hand up to his face, the sticky and salt ladened liquid smearing across part of his forehead and down along his cheek. Running was never tolerated, mistakes were rewarded with death. If any of his fathers men saw him now they would call him a coward. They would see his weakness and strike him, and his father would reward them for their loyalty. No one could be in his father’s army that wasn’t strong in strength and conviction. If he couldn’t take his blade to the Trollhunter in a fight then he wasn’t worthy of it.

He pushed himself upwards in the water and gave his head a slow shake, not daring to look at the sections of his body that lost some of the luster of ebony to the sun. He just needed a safe place to go to ground and heal. Taking the sword from his back, he stared at the length of it. His fingers curled on the hilt hard enough to hurt and he used the sword to push himself forward through the tunnel. His breaths came laboured and he let out deep groans as he caught his balance. Resting the tip of the weapon against the floor, he bowed his head until the edge of one horn was resting against it. He didn’t deserve these weapons. It was a set that his father had forged for him. Not equal to Decimar, nothing ever could match the unholy blade that his father wielded. But they were good, strong blades that deserved an equally strong troll to hold them. Shoving them back into their sheaths on his back, he let one hand rest against the wall of the sewer and leaned against it as he walked deeper in.

He might not deserve the weapons, but they were his and he’d be damned if he gave them up now and the Trollhunter or one of his ilk found them. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if the weapons that his father had forged for him were touted into the middle of Trollmarket, in front of the fiber eating fools like a trophy. 

His thoughts were dizzy as he walked in deeper and cast his gaze to either side where the sewers stretched into the distance. It was too early just yet for most humans in their vehicles, so he could at least be spared the headache of dealing with the sound of meat so close by yet out of reach. He needed something to patch up his wound and he needed meat to help his body heal up properly. With the downpour slowing down, he should find it easier to walk soon enough and he could focus on finding some place safe. Nomura had been sucked into the Darklands, and even if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t consider the museum safe now that the Trollhunter had the upper hand. Stricklander couldn’t be trusted on principal, and the youngest changeling that they had just brought over was either playing games or playing sides it would seem. 

All this told him was that he couldn’t turn to anyone from the Janus Order in his weakened state. There were no other Gumm Gumm’s on the surface that could watch his back for him while he healed, so that meant finding a place that was out of the way and empty so that the average human wouldn’t come snooping around. As the water slowly drained downward, allowing him an easier time wading through, he mentally counted off the few spots that he used for bolt holes. The museum had been one he trusted, for all the good it was now. There was an abandoned factory that Strickler and he used to bring the homeless to for times when they wanted their meals to last and not just be shoveled down in haste. Again, not one that he could trust. Then there was the hospital morgue. The chill reminded him of milder days in the Darklands, and he couldn’t touch the bodies in there, but it was a good spot for stalking out prey and finding the weak. And there was repaving going on in one section so he should be able to grab some of the tar to bind his wounds as long as he was careful. 

It chafed him that he was going to have to be so cautious when he normally would have rushed forward with the power of a true Bull. If he was any more pathetic he may as well have just sat down and ripped cloth with the weaklings of Trollmarket. Rubbing a hand across his face in annoyance, he winced and then quickly shoved his hand to his side, needing to pause to catch his breath. He didn’t want to look down, but that was the only way to tell how long he had and how badly the damage was. Blinking past the rage that caused his head to ache, he glanced down and shuddered when he saw how dull grey his stone was. Not ashen, not yet, but it was only a matter of time. Just looking at it made his gut jump, reminding him that he needed to find something to eat quickly.

Jerking his head up, he followed the sections that lead towards grates and other openings that he might be able to use. If he was fast, maybe a garbage man? But they only took certain routes on certain days, and he needed to get to the hospital to have a safe spot. The most he would be able to manage would be a cat at best right now. If he pushed himself to chase something then he could end up ripping open the wound further, so setting a trap would be best.

Another thing that the changelings were good at. That he had never bothered to cultivate in himself because he had always thought it was below him. It had been so long since he’d had to live off the land that he wasn’t even sure he could remember the basics of making an emergency den if the humans got too close to his hiding spot at the hospital. The water sloshed around his feet and slowly ebbed down to nothing but puddles and he winced as he shook his legs to get rid of the wetness as he walked. Taking a turn down the corridor of the underground labyrinth, his claws dug into the walls as he went, leaving deep scratch marks. He didn’t care if anyone found them, his thoughts were too occupied with what food he might be able to scavenge. 

Scavenging was an idea, of course. Much as he loathed it, there was plenty of garbage that he could sift through. It wouldn’t be completely nutritious. He would end up having to eat at least twice as much just to get the same effect as eating a whole human adult. If only this was Florida he might have been able to find an alligator in the sewers to tide him over. The humans thought it was just a rumor and discounted it constantly, but that was only because there were trolls that kept the reptiles in check. Maybe one of the things he could do to try to curry his father’s favor once more would be to create a small farm of the delicious leathery creatures. Their tough hides were good for being repurposed into teething toys for whelps and the meat was delicious. For the young ones it was a decent way to start learning how to fight and how to avoid longer snouts that snapped down quickly.

Was he getting a bit delirious from the loss of ichor? Leaning against the wall, he looked for a sewer grate and growled as he moved over to it, climbing up and peeking out so he could get a good look at where he was. The sun made things difficult to see, the glare shining off the metal of the cars and other various sources had him pulling back quickly. What few cars were up there were parked so he could assume that the humans driving them were inside their respective buildings to go to work. Thankfully the hospital was close by, and even through the odor of the sewers he could also make out the hot scent of tar being mixed in a machine. He had to remind himself not to rush, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He was defeated, but only for so long. He would hide, much as it pained him, and he would heal. Then once he was closer to being whole again, he would have a decision to make. Would he go after the Trollhunter, or would find Stricklander and wring the answers from his scrawny little neck? 

By the feeling of the wound in his gut, he would have plenty of time to debate that. Weigh the pros and cons. As long as he dealt with Stricklander quickly and efficiently, the Trollhunter would never know who took him out and when he chose to attack him it would be a perfect surprise. Or maybe he would let Stricklander live in the basement of the museum or some other appropriate place, broken but alive and unable to escape to the humans for help. He could find some of the goblins and order them to find the changeling’s familiar and have it fed to the beasts so Strickler would be constantly trapped in his pathetic form. Impure and inadequate. Cut off from the Janus Order as well as the Darklands and humanity, Stricklander would be nothing but a quivering mess. Bular could show him that his place was in lowly servitude and break the pride out of him.

His breath came in slow, ragged pants and he smiled at the thought of the groveling Impure. Stricklander always looked best when he was on his knees begging for his life. The way his cultured voice would crack and fall back into the gravely tones that trolls were supposed to use, it would be so satisfying to watch the veneer of humanity slipping away. When he bled, would it be blood or would it be the more normal troll ichore that would drip from him? Just the thought of putting the arrogant changeling in place was enough to take his mind off the pain. Stricklander had stood in his path in so many plans to go after the current Trollhunter, and even in the past he had scurried around and tried to arrange things to make himself seem all the more powerful in front of the Janus Order. Undermining Bular any chance he could. It had been beyond infuriating to deal with before when he had to temper himself. But now he had an excuse. A small one, granted, but since he had time to think he could work on that too.

He could smell the difference as he came closer to the hospital and grinned as he looked for the right path to take that would lead him to the bolt hole that he seldom used. As far as he knew, there were no changelings in the hospital, so if anyone stumbled on him he could safely assume that they were there for lunch. Running his tongue across his fangs, he growled softly at the thought of some thick haunch of flesh. A glut of blood that he could quench himself with and simply sit back and enjoy. At this point he wouldn’t even care about the taste of cloth getting in the way of the flesh. He’d eat it all without complaint.

He was snapped from his thoughts by the feel of something tiny scurrying against his feet and looked down to see a large rat sniffing at him. Gritting his fangs, he shifted his foot enough to trap it’s tail and then crouched down to pick it up. All his plotting and dreams would stay in his thoughts and never come to fruition if he allowed himself to starve. And he acknowledged before that he couldn’t go hunting here. At least not for human meat. Lifting the snack up, he grimaced and opened his mouth wide. It would barely be enough, but it was a start.


	4. chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small focus on Strickler who's just now coming back to Arcadia after a short jaunt to find some jewelry.

Leaving the house shouldn't be as difficult as it was, but armed with the knowledge that there were trolls and changelings out there that wanted to hurt her baby froze her sometimes. She clutched her car keys in one hand and looked back at the door, knowing that she only had so many sick days and vacation days she could call in before the hospital would threaten her with repercussions. She hadn't used any so far since Jim unleashed this knowledge on her, but she knew she was going to soon. She had to rearrange her schedule to speak with Vendel and see what else she could learn from Blinky. 

Switching on the toggle for the garage door, she got in her car and forced herself not to think about trolls for the next nine hours while she was at work. She needed to focus on work and when she was on her lunch break she could text Jim to set up a meeting between herself and the trollhunter team again. Pulling out, she barely glanced at the garbage bins, seeing that one had the lid knocked off of it. Making sure her back end was completely out of the garage, she clicked the remote for the door and pulled the break so she could hop out and fix the cans. Just a few weeks ago she would have blamed the problem with the garbage bins on raccoons but now it was just as possible that some troll was out for a midnight (breakfast?) snack. One great thing about trolls was their ability to recycle what normally would go to the dump.

She could get some raccoon proof trash cans, but would the trolls get offended by that? Maybe she could ask them what they wanted her to set aside and get Draal to take it to Trollmarket while the other bits of trash got put into better bins. Setting the lids on again, she turned and froze up, seeing the one person that had her stomach turning in knots for weeks.

“Barbara.” Strickler stepped towards her, a somewhat awkward smile on his face. 

He probably thought it was endearing. Was it terrible for her to think that after she hadn’t seen him for well over two weeks? Jim told her that he hadn’t been at school either, but since he was a student he hadn’t been able to pry information out of the school staff members about what had happened. Draal suggested that he ran with his tail between his legs, which prompted a conversation about troll and changeling anatomy that had the massive blue troll flustered and trying to dodge her questions all night. Blinky at least had been more forthcoming on the issue.

“You’ve been missed.” She found herself speaking softly. 

Her heart squeezing when he stepped closer to her and started to reach out to her. He stopped part way and she barely registered the pain on his expression before she was crossing the rest of that distance and sliding her fingers across his palm. There was a shuddering breath released and she wasn’t sure which one of them let it out.

“I’m so terribly sorry, Barbara. I don’t have any excuse I can offer.”

Of course he couldn’t. He was a changeling and as far as he knew, she didn’t know anything about the other world that was turning right under their feet.

“Come on Walt, do you really think you’re the first man that ever had a breakdown?” She smiled as she offered him the out. “You work an incredibly difficult job, I can tell from looking at you that you don’t get nearly as much sleep as you need. I’d wager that your diet isn’t much better, and you’ve been doing this for how many years now? Although I won’t lie… I kind of expected it from Ms. Janeth before you. That woman is really high strung.” 

The relief from him was nearly palpable and he blinked several times, a thin shine of unshed tears in his eyes. He drew both of her hands up to his chest and clasped them close to where a humans heart rested. 

"Walt, I really want to stay and talk but you're catching me just before shift."

"Could we meet up after work if it's not too much trouble? I know this is coming from the blue, but I'd really like to speak with you about some problems I've had? I understand if you'd rather not--"

"Walt, stop." She lifted a hand to lightly smooth some of his hair back. "I'll be off work at 3 as long as there's no emergencies. Meet me at the hospital if you can. If not, you can call me and we'll meet up at that nice outdoor cafe at some point. Alright?"

"You have an intense patience and forgiveness to you that I truly don't deserve." Strickler leaned into her touch. 

It bothered her that he honestly thought that was true. She had seen enough patients in her work that came in with such emptiness in their eyes. Part of her wanted to pull him inside, out of sight so she could ask to see his real eyes. As if that might give her a better idea of if he was being sincere or not. But she couldn't let him know that she knew what he was. Blinky and Aaarrggh had warned her against it as being far too dangerous. Jim didn't want her anywhere near him and had been infinitely relieved when his history teacher disappeared. She suspected that if Walt had stayed in Arcadia, Jim might have tried to make her promise not to go near him.

“Walt, whatever it is that you’re going through…” her breath caught in her throat as the threads of doubt whispered at the back of her mind. Walter had left because it had been dangerous for him in ways she couldn’t fathom. He was not like her ex. “Now that you’re back, we can work it out.”

It was barely noticeable, but he flinched at her words. Maybe he had been expecting her to say something else? Or maybe the prospect of trying to ‘fix’ any of this was just too much for him to wrap his mind around. Jim had been hiding all of this from her, and now that he confessed they were closer and he seemed so much happier. Who was Walt confiding in, if anyone? How long would she have to wait before he felt safe opening up to her? And could she actually convince her son and the trolls to allow Walt to have a second chance.

“After work.” Walt cleared his throat, and even though he still looked upset, she could see he was making an effort to smile for her. “Let me take you out for tea, and we’ll talk.”

“Alright.” She smiled warmly, wanting to project her hopes and positivity onto him so he could believe like she did that everything would work out. “There’s a cute outdoor cafe close to the hospital. Come pick me up around three and we can enjoy some sunshine as long as the weather stays nice.”

He nodded slowly, letting out a slow breath as she moved back to her car and opened up the driver’s side door. She wanted so badly to stay there with him. To pull him inside and talk to him or go with him to his house so she could assure him that nothing had changed so badly that they couldn’t remain friends. She wanted to be more than friends. Had wanted that for a while now but they’d both been inching along at a snails pace. Their relationship, such as it was, was a soap bubble ready to pop. Slipping into her car, she rolled down the window and waved to him as he moved out of the way.

As she pulled out of the driveway, Strickler stroked his thumb across the top of the thick gold band on his ring finger. Seeing her was making a hole in his gut, but he still didn’t want to turn his eyes away from the sight of her car. He knew that Jim would likely be waking up and getting ready for school too, so he couldn’t linger long. To say nothing of Tobias who lived across the street and could be suspiciously attentive at the most inopportune times. Anyone seeing him would raise questions because of how quickly and silently he had fled Arcadia Oaks, but those two were the most dangerous to him because it might rouse the trolls against him. At the very least he would have to contend with Jim as the Hunter and Tobias as a pain in the neck.

His fingers curled into a fist and he pulled himself up straighter, his gaze hardening when he glanced up at the window to Jim's room that still had the curtains pulled closed. The warm feelings he once had for the boy had cooled quickly, and he was sure that it would stay that way as long as he didn't move forward with honest feelings for Barbara. It was a shame, but he had never had a long lasting relationship with a human before so it wasn't as though he was missing out on something. 

It wasn’t as though he looked forward to the softness of her fingers grazing across the backs of his knuckles. It wasn’t like his heart stuttered when he saw her hair looking like fire as the sunlight brightened her features. Speaking to her didn’t sharpen a knife-like guilt in his gut with each word and twist with her laughter.

Touching the ring once more, he turned on his heel and started down the sidewalk. Now that he was back in Arcadia, he had to move fast. Planting seeds of distrust between mother and son would be difficult and he would have to be too careful with his words and actions around Barbara. Ensuring that his position in the Janus order was not in peril was at least marginally easier with Bular dead, but he still had to be cautious. Going to the school principal and taking his position would be childs play by comparison. Figuring that he deserved at least one easy thing in his day, he smiled before heading towards his home. There was a small ‘gift’ he had to pick up before he could visit the principal. 

Angor Rot followed Strickler from the tree line, a low purr rolling up from his throat as he watched the one who had control of his soul. He could feel the soft human fingers roll across the gold when Strickler was lost in thought and his lip curled with each absent minded stroke. He seriously doubted that the changeling even knew just how deep the connection he had to the ring actually went. The two faced, would be troll had put up a brave face when they first met, but he only had words and physical force to back up any threats. There was no great magic in him like there was in the Mother of Monsters. He waved his staff to extend the shadows around him briefly, barely caring as he moved like silk across the too bright green grass. There was one good thing about Strickler at least, and that was the fact that he possessed a wealth of knowledge about how the world worked now. And if Angor was going to survive in this century, he needed to pump the changeling for everything he could.

Light fingers rolled along the crest of the ring and his legs tensed in mid stride, a shudder rolling up his spine. The barest hint of a nail traced the symbols across the top before sweeping down and starting to twist it around the finger it was on. The changeling was keeping a brisk pace and Angor could guess where it was he was headed from the determination in his stride. It didn’t really make sense for him to be going back to his bolt hole, but who was he to try to understand the mind of a changeling. They were mercurial creatures with multiple agendas and Angor could never quite decide if he respected their intellect or despised their duality.

They were stolen from their true parents and given to a true monster so it wasn’t as though he could really blame them could he? Their were raised on venom and had to maneuver the minefield of temperments of Gumm Gumm and every other troll they encountered. He had seen Strickler’s home, if one could call it that. Behind the facade of humanity, there were multiple wards and hidden weapons and though he hadn’t seen it, he assumed there must also be hidden exits from it. 

But for all the wards Strickler had, they still weren’t enough to keep him out. And he couldn’t very well cross the street and risk a human seeing him. He smiled to himself before creating a small dark portal, stepping through it easily. The interior was just as they had left it and he moved around the living area, knowing no one else could get in and the sun wouldn’t be able to reach him through the blackout curtains.

Walking around slowly, he inspected the pieces of art on the walls, ignoring the echoes from the ring that were sending little pings of attention up his spine. He didn’t recognize the places in the pictures and the canvas was too smooth to be painted, which bothered him on a level he couldn’t put words to. No one had the amount of talent to blend paints this smoothly against a surface so how had they managed it? And was it actually a place or was it something that a mind created? Was it from the mind of a human, a changeling or was it even possible that it was a troll that did this miraculous thing? Grunting, he stepped over to the couch and sat down on it, sinking into the cushions that were not made to hold his weight. He could feel the singing of the ring gliding along his thighs and circling his hips, soft twists and rubs warming his body faintly even if his blood was uncaring at the moment. 

Thinking to distract himself from the unknowing caresses, he snaked a hand down to his thigh and pulled off a chunk of stone. The pain was fleeting, for better or worse, but at least when he had the stone in hand he could try to focus on creating a totem. The knife he took out to carve it with was deceptively delicate and he stared at the dark grey stone in contemplation. His hands moved without really thinking, knowing that the first steps of a totem were generally all the same. The edges needed to be smoothed and the flawed sections had to be chipped away. Small flecks fell to the floor as he let the knife curve across the piece of stone, debating what he should make first. He usually made golems, but those were large creatures that brought a lot of attention. As pleasure pulsed up along his inner thighs, he gripped the stone a bit tighter and stared hard at the small flecks of stone that were littering the carpet. Shifting his hand, he started to make lengthwise cuts to thin out the totem so it would be something more sleek. A complement to the wards that Strickler put up around his home, he could plant it in the fireplace and if a stranger came too close it would attach itself to them and set them on fire. He just needed to make small adjustments to the runes across the back so any flames would be contained to just the one that it attached to.

Hearing the front door unlock and open, he lifted his head minutely but didn’t look to see the changeling. He could smell that it was Strickler just like he could smell the faint trace of nervous sweat on him. At least the nervous sweat was better than the cloying scent of fear that had been lingering around him the first time they met. Perhaps with time even the nervousness would give way to a more relaxed musk. 

Although that seemed as likely as Strickler not wearing that bottled pheromone he insisted on putting on in the mornings. Why humans found that spiced scent alluring, he could not fathom, but Strickler insisted that it was a favored ‘cologne’ for older gentlemen. He called it Old Spice and when Angor commented that there was nothing enticing about it and he would never have it in his kitchen, Strickler had let out a chortle that devolved into a quiet snort.

“You don’t have to sit here in the dark. I showed you how to turn on the lights.” Stricklers voice still had that soft quiver and his hands moved together, fingers lacing and shifting together in a slow stroke.

He took a deep breath as he felt the tightness of fingers around his ring. Surrounded all around by softened flesh that was warm to the touch and moved side to side a little at a time.

“You need to desist in -toying- with my ring.” Angor flipped the knife in his hand and stabbed it into the low table in front of him.

“That is mahogany!” Strickler’s voice rose up, losing the faint tremor finally as anger laced his tone. “Do you know how old that is? How long it took me to get?”

Rising up from the couch, he let the unfinished totem drop onto the cushion and turned towards Strickler. It was a quick reflex that brought the changeling’s hand up, like he fully expected to be hit. It was almost laughable how much he relied on the ring to protect him. How had he not thought ahead to when he granted Angor his freedom, as he claimed he would. Growling low, Angor reached his hand out slowly, taking Strickler by the wrist with a gentle touch so the protection spells wouldn’t be activated. Turning his hand so he would have to look at the golden ring.

“You wear this and yet you have no idea how to use it. You wave it around like a child with broadsword.”

“I’ve seen children with broadswords, that’s not a fair comparison.” Strickler started to pull his hand back, his brow furrowing with worry when Angor refused to let go just yet.

“It is apt. You use it as a shield with adequate knowledge. And you use it as a sword without thinking.” 

“I’ve done no such--”

He couldn’t finish the sentence before Angor was snarling at him, pushing him back against the wall with hurried steps. There was pain on Angor’s face and he panted for breath a bit quicker. His arms braced on the wall to pin Strickler in place, fangs grit like he was straining against a heavy wind. His jaw flexed and Strickler couldn’t imagine anything but the wide mouth opening and settling on his throat to tear his flesh. As he pushed the ring forward, however, Angor crushed his mouth down on him. A hand gripped his hair to hold him in place and he tensed as the strong fingers tugged at him enough that he let out a yelp. It was a small opening but Angor pressed at it, shoving his tongue into his mouth and pressing against him. Confused and alarmed, his mind was spinning as the tongue thrust against his own, a greedy pumping of the slick appendage taking his breath away. A long, thick, rut was pressed against his thigh and his eyes widened when it was moved in a slow, languid thrust before Angor pulled back.

“Don’t toy with it, Strickler. Or you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”


	5. Mistaken Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone needs to protect Barbara from herself. Hey, maybe this new troll can help her, right guys?

“Sandy, there’s nothing wrong with the morgue. Trust me, I’ve had to go down there dozens of times.” Barbara looked at the young intern that was supposed to be helping her. “The sooner you go down there, the sooner you can come back up.”

“But I… I swear the last time I was down there I kept hearing these noises.” The girl looked paler than normal, looking towards the elevator that should take her down with the gurney and body she was pushing. “I’m not bothered by… bodies. It’s the sounds that freak me out and it’s freaking me out.”

“It’s just echoes from the construction or something.” Barbara shook her head a bit and looked at her watch. Still a few hours before she was supposed to get off work, but at least it was relatively slow today. “Look, I’ll take this one down today, but I’m only going to do this once. You need to get used to the sounds that sometimes happen. You’re going to hear creaky sounds from the building settling and there’s going to be air escaping the bodies to make little groans and farts.”

Sandy was wringing her hands together, looking as though she wanted to be anywhere but there. Peeking up at Barbara through long lashes, she guiltily looked towards the corridor that led down to the morgue and swallowed thickly. “I’m getting used to the sighs and the farts. It’s the growling that’s creeping me out.”

Barbara paused at this, considering how close the construction was and what times it often went on. Smiling to Sandy, she took the gurney from her and started down the hallway where the elevator waited for her. “I’ll take care of it today. But if I’m going to do this, can you please go change the bandages on Ms. Needlemier’s feet?”

“Definitely!” Sandy looked relieved and put a hand to her chest, smiling warmly. “I will take bare bones over creepy morgues any day of the week.”

Barb took a breath as she wheeled the body down the hall to the elevator. Had she ever been that skittish about the bodies in the morgue or the sounds that came from the dark, cold room? Surely when she was younger she had some reservations about being in the basement surrounded by dead. But as she walked and considered what she was like when she was just starting out, she couldn’t pin point a time that she had been bothered by the morgue or even graveyards.

Clicking the bottom-most button to indicate she wanted the basement and then the closing key on the elevator, she folded her arms across the large metal bar she was using to wheel the gurney. She could feel a faint tension along her shoulder blades as the doors of the elevator slid shut. There was a quiet hum as the thick wires lowered the cold coffin like box into the basement. She wanted to blame Sandy for her hyper awareness of every sound now, but it wasn’t as if the young woman’s paranoia was rubbing off on her. It was just one thing that she had said that stuck out in Barb’s mind. The sound of growling.

Closing her eyes, she let her hands slide together and tangled her fingers as she listened to everything around her. A simple hum from the elevator as well as the ventilation above her. The soft, barely there, sound of her breath when she exhaled. This time of the day, construction would still be in full swing, but there wasn’t a hint of it from the sounds around her. She swallowed thickly, opening her eyes when the doors rolled open slowly. The heavy sound of metal on the track dragging and weighing down on the wheels. At first as she started to wheel the gurney out, she could swear that there were sounds. The welcoming sounds of the hum of coolant coming from the walls being the most familiar. But as she moved down the hallway towards the section where the coolers were held, it felt like all the sounds were fading away to nothing. 

Her grip on the gurney loosened and she took a step away from it, looking behind her even though she knew that it was just empty hall space and a door that led to some old storage. A cold chill rose up her spine and she forced herself to turn away, going into the room where the coolers were kept. She had never been nervous of the basement before and there was no reason for that to start now. Lifting her chin a bit, she tried to think of what she would say to Walt later on. 

She normally had no issues with the morgue, but now that Sandy had put thoughts in her head she couldn't help but imagine there were things in the shadows watching her. Out of the corner of her eyes she kept seeing small flickers of movement and her fingers curled tighter on the gurney as she walked it forward. In her thoughts she kept up the slippery quick mantra of 'nothing is there, nothing is there, nothing is there'. Her feet barely made a sound against the concrete and the cold inched it's way towards her bones a little at a time. Pushing out a breath, she licked her lips as she turned the gurney towards the cooler and then hurried to open up the door. The light was dim inside and thankfully there weren't too many bodies inside. It made it easier to push the gurney in and she found an empty spot to slide the thin slab into. 

It wasn't unusual for the humans to come down here and find spots for the dead. Twice a week, sometimes three, there would be someone who come to get the bodies. He had learned that his first day here when he had to hide and had crammed his already hurting body into a darkened section while some skinny looking humans had loaded up several carts with bodies. He had never actually seen what humans did with their dead in this century. Normally he had his meat fresh anyways and didn't leave anything for anyone to find. When he had been younger he had been fascinated with the way they worked on the dead and how they mourned. 

He vaguely remembered when he was very young, seeing a Gumm Gumm being honored when they died. But unlike humans who seemed to save the whole body for a funeral pyre, trolls were taken apart for the tribe. They might save a piece or two that could be carved into something for their chief or family to save but even that had gone out of practice as far as he knew. Even when he was older and leading those on Earth, their methods of respecting the dead had been meager at best. You couldn't exactly have any manner of extravagant mourning periods when you had to hide your existence from humans. The Janus Order had assisted with disposal of bodies and those left alive took their time, either alone or with the group to write what the departed had done so they wouldn't be forgotten. 

Watching the woman come out of the cold space, he saw her shut the door up and lean against it. The long metal trolly was beside her, emptied and ready for another to be placed on it. She looked tense and he held himself still when she pushed away and started to walk by the spot where he was hiding. It was on the edge of his throat to let out a low growl and frighten her, but this was far too good a spot to give up just yet. He could certainly grab her before she reached the elevator. She would taste like wine going down and it would sate a hunger in him that he hadn't felt in ages. 

And then as she got a step past him, it reached him. Underneath the faint smell of soap was an undercurrent of rich earth and deep streams of mineral water. His eyes lit up and he could feel the rumble before he could pull it back. 

She turned towards the sound, her brow furrowed and her breath caught in her throat, ready to scream. The orangish red light in the dark made her pause and she let out the breath with a scowl. 

"Are you what's been scaring the interns?" She demanded, settling her hands on her hips. 

The audacity of how she raised her voice made him pull back and he blinked, honestly at a loss for words as she waited for him to answer. The strange little changeling didn't think twice to admonish him like he was freshly hatched and in need of a scruffing. It would have been humbling if he hadn't been horrified by the fact that his surprise had made himself known. 

"If you're going to be here, you have to hide a little better than that." She seemed relaxed, not waiting for him to respond. 

His throat felt dry and he pulled back further into the shadows, wishing that they would swallow him up so he wouldn't have to deal with her. His hands reached for the swords on his back, but only got part way there when the pain gripped him and twisted his gut. He refused to make a sound but he did pause in his motion, clenching his fist as he stared at the changeling that stood so close. 

Her expression softened as she looked at him and her green eyes pulled down his body. Taking in a deep breath, her hand raised up, covering her lips when she let out a quiet curse. 

"That is.. not good." She muttered, taking a step towards him. 

Growling to warn her off didn't seem to work because she just frowned at him. 

"Quit the machismo. You're in a hospital, buddy. So you've gotta deal with a doctor now." 

She grinned at him then, flexing a pathetically small muscle at him. If she had wanted to actually seem strong, she should have transformed back to her trollish form, but perhaps she had a personal rule that she couldn't do so while in such a conspicuous area like the hospital. Grunting, he tried to back up as she came closer and he was graced with a somewhat tired expression. 

"Look. I don't know why you're here instead of getting help at Trollmarket. But it doesn't matter right now. You're hurt and you need help."

Bular froze up at her words, tilting his head slightly, his long horns knocking against the wall next to him. Changelings didn't wander into Trollmarket, to the best of his knowledge. The entirety of the Janus Order were under the control of his father, and anyone who dared to wander were swiftly dealt with in order to keep secrets from being spread. He was marveling at this thought when the woman set her hand on his arm and moved it as she crouched to get a good look at his gut. 

"Not going to lie, I'm not sure that I can bring down tar while it's still hot enough to help patch that up." Her tone was serious and when she looked up at him, her tiny fingers gave a squeeze to his wrist. "There's some sheets that are supposed to go to the incinerator though. They're clean but they have stains in them that are.. well, concerning when seen on a hospital bed. We might be able to do something with those to keep anything from getting in the wound. ..when was the last time you cleaned this out?"

"I...didn't." he growled low and relaxed even as he sniffed at her again. He was trying to place her scent. She smelled like a changeling, but what type was she? "I tried taking tar last night. Couldn't reach it with humans there."

"Yeah.. that would be an issue.." she narrowed her eyes and patted his wrist again, almost absently. 

He didn't get the impression that she was trying to condescend to him. In truth, he had no idea what she was trying to do. If she was someone from Trollmarket, surely she knew who he was and should stay away. And the same went for anyone of the Janus Order. Unless, of course, the Order wasn't actually out to kill him like he assumed. His thoughts were dizzy and he let out a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He was hungry and confused and just wanted to find a new safe spot to bolt himself away in. 

"How long have you been down here?" She looked up at him. 

He grumbled low and raised his other hand to press his palm to his face in an attempt to block out that worried look she kept directing at him. She had to be some sort of den mother, to be fussing over him so much, but what type of trolls made up the changeling den mothers? He was fairly certain they were forest trolls, not the deep water ones, so wasn't her scent wrong? It was times like this that he wished changelings had something in their human form to indicate what their troll form came from. They may be Impure but at least there should be some small indication of what should be right about them.

"Less than a week." He finally grumbled in response when she refused to move away. 

"Well, you've been doing a good job taking care of yourself at least. But we should find you someplace less likely to have.. interruptions. You're lucky, I only knew to look for you because I've got monsters in my closet too. No offense." She winced as she stepped away, taking out a phone and fiddling with it. 

"Who are you calling?" His ire rose as he pushed up from his seat, growling low and taking staggering steps towards her. 

"Hey, hey, calm down." She shushed him as she placed a hand to his chest, trying to push him back down even as he strained to get a look at her phone. 

He raised a brow at the name on the text screen. 'British fox'. 

"I'm just letting someone know they shouldn't wait for me after work, okay? Gotta call my son too so just… shoosh for a minute."

His eyes widened and he crumpled back to the ground, making her wince at the loud 'thud' that ensued. She tucked the phone under her ear and shoulder and moved down the hallway with him watching her the entire time. Of course he was scared and cautious of her. All the trolls in Trollmarket were, with the exception of Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. Even Draal walked around her like there were eggshells, and he lived in her basement. If this troll had been here for a week, she could only imagine two things. One was that he was so injured that he couldn't safely make it back, the second was that he'd lost his horngazel and couldn't make a pathway home again. 

At the end of the hallway, she found the cart of sterilized but stained sheets and took an arm full of them as she waited for Jim to pick up the phone or for his answering machine to kick in. 

"Sweetie, it's mom. I'm sorry but an emergency came up at the hospital concerning our.. friends. I probably won't be right home after work, but I'll try not to take too long. I know you're probably going to be training anyways, make sure you take something to eat so you don't wear yourself out. And make sure you get some practice with the morning star, you need to expand how many weapons your proficient in. Tell Toby I love him too and remind him he has to feed Nana's cats tonight, she's going to be out at bridge."

Bular pulled back a bit when she came back to the room, chattering on the phone. Her stern reminder about the morning star sent him back five hundred years and he couldn’t help but wish he could snag the sheets from her and hide under them. It was ridiculous but he could vividly picture her yelling at him to take his medicine before the bezores completely melted into the potion she might put together for him. He was over seven hundred years old, he did not need to be sinking under stones like a whelp. When she put away the phone again, she was smiling, still juggling the blankets and he sat up to make it easier for her to help wrap them around him.

There were no weapons on her that he could see, but that didn’t mean much when it came to changelings. He wished he could simply eat her and be done with it, but he needed to at least wait until she had helped to bind up his wounds. 

“This would be so much easier if I could get ahold of Vendel and ask him for advice.” She muttered, a furrow in her brow.

She was in some sort of dubious contact with the elder of Trollmarket? He found himself raising up his arms as she directed him, quieting his sounds of discomfort when the linen was pulled snug around him and she found a way to tie it in place. 

“I can’t imagine that this is where you want to be.” She looked up at him with a sad smile. “So, we just have to get you feeling better, then we can get you back to Trollmarket.”

“That… will not be possible.” Bular sniffed at her again, still baffled by the way she smelled and the way she acted. 

“Nothing is impossible.” Her voice was warm like honey straight from the comb and the deep river scent of her seemed to wash over his tongue. “We’ll make sure to find a way to get you home.”

She was pretty, for a human. For a changeling, she smelled good enough to pull under the covers as long as no one was watching. But the things she kept saying didn’t add up. There was something simple minded in her faith that he would be accepted regardless of his past and he reached out to snag her by the wrist before she could pull back.

“Impure, you cannot take me to Trollmarket.” he insisted sternly. “It would not be safe.”

She frowned then and there was a hint of clay in her scent just then. She twisted her wrist and pulled herself out of his grip, taking a step back and perhaps showing the first bit of sense since he met her. “I don’t like the term ‘Impure’. But I’m going to be perfectly safe. Trollmarket’s gotten used to me. Sort of. I’ve only been there a few times now, but they’re getting used to us.”

“Us.” He stared and felt his lip curl up over his fangs as he stared at her. “What us?”

“Me, my son and… why are you looking at me like that?” She tensed when she felt something and took out her phone to see a message. “I don’t have much longer, I’ve got an appointment in five minutes. Look, I’ll be back down once I’m on break, just try not to let anyone else know that you’re here okay?”

“Bring meat.” He sat up a bit, already feeling himself salivating. He’d managed to creep back to the sewers at night just long enough to grab rats or the occasional stray but it wasn’t much to help his hunger or his healing so he was left with pitifully little to survive on.

“I’ll bring what I can.” She nodded to him, willing to ignore the fact that he was trying his best to make it sound like an order. That was something she was well used to in a hospital full of people trying to grasp at some semblance of control in their lives. “You just relax down here and focus on healing. I’m going to try to figure out some other place you can hide out that’s less dangerous. For the staff and you both.”

He had barely had to threaten her at all and she was willing to do so much to help him. She was odd and perhaps a little touched in the head, but it seemed as though her heart was in the right place. Obviously she needed to be reminded of her place, but he could let that wait until he was better healed and found a permanent place to stay that wasn’t under threat of being found by humans. 

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Before she came back again, he had time to think and to take a short nap, both things he had too much time for now in his opinion. He could smell the food before the doors of the elevator opened, and despite it not being what he really wanted to sink his fangs into it was still a welcome relief. And at least it wasn’t cat.

She looked a bit more tired when she came back to him and she had one of the metal trollies with her again. The food was tucked onto it underneath a sheet to more or less hide it from view and he could understand why. If a human saw her going with this amount there would be questions. Pushing the cart over to him, she rubbed a hand against her lower back.

“Alright, I haven’t had a lot of time to check, but I’m on a break now so we should be able to find something, then when the sun comes down I can come back and help you into a van or something and get you out of here.” she pulled out the phone again and leaned against the wall beside him as he dug into the food. “You’re welcome by the way.”

He snorted at the irritation in her voice but paused in his eating when she shot him a disapproving stare. Reminded again of his den mother when he’d tracked blood into the nest, he slowly wiped his mouth and focused on the brown brick of meat in front of him.

“You… found good food. I’m surprised you managed to get this much without being detected.”

“What detected? I went, I purchased the food and I brought it down here. As far as anyone is concerned, I’m just buying lunch for a small group of us.” She shrugged and then waved a hand absently.

He looked at the plates in front of him and scooted over what looked like some stewed vegetables that he knew he wouldn’t want anyways. “You should eat as well.”

“I already ate, don’t worry.” She placed a hand to his arm, lightly patting it.

The way she touched him was always so casual and she didn’t seem to be paying attention. Gingerly, he leaned over a bit to sniff her once more, trying his best to tell his senses what exactly this little changeling was.

“You mentioned you and your son before.” He grumbled in a low tone, picking up some jiggling colorful stuff and giving it a small shake just to watch it bobble side to side. “Your mate also goes to Trollmarket?”

“Subtle.” She deadpanned as she looked up at him, shaking her head. “No, my partner sank into a depression and decided that the only cure was someone half his age.”

There was no malice in her tone and when he stared at her incredulously, he could see that there was no tension in her. No lines on her face that marked her with anger. She stated it so matter of fact that it could almost be mistaken as her trying to tell a joke. 

“You didn’t kill him?”

That actually got a laugh from her, even though he was being serious and she paused in her scrolling of a map of Arcadia on her phone to look at him.

“What? No, I didn’t kill him. There’s a small problem with legality in the way you know?”

“The Janus Order could have taken care of it.”

“What’s that?” 

She looked honestly confused and he paused to swallow the jiggling colorful treat. His tail twitched behind him and he stared down at her, sniffing at her again. Still that same scent. There was no hint of the false sprays that humans used to cover themselves up when he let the smell of her linger on the back of his tongue. The way she tilted her head to look up at him was just a bit too much and he considered all the other changelings he’d known over the years who refused to meet his gaze out of terror of what he would do to them. The mystery wrapped around itself as he reached a hand out to her and brushed the dried blood red hair from her face. How did this changeling get into Trollmarket? How did she go years without knowing who he was? Perhaps the most important question though: How was he going to use this to his advantage?

“They’re a council. I’m surprised they haven’t come to find you.” He answered her warily and watched as she turned her phone so he could see it.

“Well, no one’s ever been interested in finding me. But hey, I’ve got some ideas of where you can hide until you’re better.” 

She gently pushed the conversation away from herself and towards him. Any other time he would be pleased with this, but she left him with too many questions. Lowering himself slightly, he looked at the map she brought up, wrinkling his nose faintly at the cross section of streets that made everything look like a spiders web. Cartography was so much easier when the cities and towns were smaller. But at least they could hold multiple maps in one area with these new devices.

“Things are going to get better.” She promised him quietly.

Looking down at her, with her odd scents and her mind so easy to shape as he needed, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’m Barbara, by the way.”

“Relig.” He nodded, recalling a troll he used to fight side by side. The Gumm Gumm had been a charmer of changelings and would be good to keep in mind as he kept this one at his side. “Thank you, Bar-bu-rah.”


End file.
